i'm terribly sorry for the long update. our internet was down this weekend, and this is the only time internet is back up in a short while. anywho, enjoy another chapter!

Anna has just conjured the most ridiculous ideas in the history of ideas, Kristoff thinks to himself.

Here they were, in the same unnamed park they've been to in the previous night before with sleeping bags under their arms and sweaters hanging over their shoulders looking like a pair of campers finding sanctuary in the obscured place instead of profound tourists that they were supposed to be. He wanted nothing more than to scream how ridiculous this all was, but bit his tongue before he pushes Anna to the edge of tears again like earlier, when she tried to convince him to sleep outside of the hotel in the park and he did nothing more than slap his hand to his head while laughing, and before he could chortle another round of fitting laughter, she was already sniffling, looking small and helpless when he thought it was all so stupid—this was stupid. It came out harsher than he intended to.

How did I get myself in this mess? He thought to himself in the passing moments of silence between them.

They had gone back from Notre Dame, where they both made wishes on Point Zero, where said when you jump on it and make a wish, you'll get a chance to come back there someday again. And for a brief moment there, he felt that he was at the center of the Paris, the heart of it, like what the silly beliefs had said, and for once, he found himself doing something ridiculous such as really making a wish on spot x, before wanting nothing more than to punch his senses back and take a firm grip on his grouchy side again.

I wish Anna would be happy, he told himself without waver when he shut his eyes for a beat before letting them fly open to see Anna smiling wide at him, knowing that he really did make a wish. She'd wailed and pressed him to tell her his wish, but kept firing back that it wouldn't come true if he told it. Also, she wouldn't tell hers either. So why tell when she couldn't share hers herself?

Kristoff also knew he shouldn't have agreed to traverse Paris at night the other evening, because it would lead Anna to her curious side again, wanting to feel the slap of the night air on her face again and see the artificial glow of the city once more. And now, he really regrets it. Walking here side by side finding a good place to set up camp in the lone park.

When they found a good spot near the lake, Anna grinned from ear to ear, running to the edge of the lake before turning heels back to him and help setting their sleeping bags and backpacks on the ground. Kristoff sighed.

"Don't even get started, mister," she frowned accusingly at him. He shrugged.

"Just help me set the blanket and we're good."

With their sleeping bags on either side of them, backpacks beside and the blanket spread out on the open, an assortment of snacks and flashlights scattered on the thin piece of cloth, they let themselves relax and sit side by side and listen to the song the crickets sang in the night.

Kristoff pulled out a box of chocolate from his denim backpack.

"Here," he said, shyly poking the box to her lap.

"What's this?" she asked, taking the box and putting it overhead to study the content in the dark, eyes squinted.

"A peace offering," he said and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. "You know… after being such a grouch about this whole thing. I bought that a day ago, and thought I'd bring it home without telling you yet, so if you'd ever inhale the chocolates we bought on the plane and forget saving some up before reaching home, I'd have a spare."

"How thoughtful," she laughed, breaking the tension between them. He let himself smile, finally.

Anna had closed in on him back at the hotel, a gloomy face worn when he'd laughed and repeatedly said how he wouldn't do something so ridiculous such as sleep under the stars when they had a hotel to sleep in anyway. When Kristoff noticed what he had done, offended her bucket list that seemed to be the world to her at the moment, he realized his mistake. He hesitated, of course, before giving into her request. Yet instead of seeing her face split a smile or make her pump her fist in the air, she nodded simply and went to gather her things.

She asked cutely for his help, and he promised he would. And in those seconds of depriving her request, he had offended and betrayed her for the slightest moment. And she took it by heart.

But now, her smile is just as wide as it was before, and he felt more than relieved that everything was back the way it was.

"I'm sorry, okay?" he bit his lip in apology, their shoulders barely touching in the dusk. "I didn't mean it…"

"I know you didn't," she scrunched her nose up at him, legs stretched out and hands on her lap. "But before I really do accept your apology, I need you to help me finish one more thing on my check list for the night."

"Me?"

"Yes, you!" she clasped her hands before jumping up on her feet, running around the edge of the hill collecting flowers in her hands leaving him dumbfounded of whatever she was doing now. When she came back, breathing a little harder, cheeks visibly pink in the dark, she plopped down beside him cross legged before scattering her find of flowers in front of them.

"What's up with this?" he asked, watching as she studied each one before making her pick, a pink one to twirl in her finger.

"I'm going to make you a king!" she smiled, and began to weave the flowers all together. He didn't argue, but found himself in tandem with her in stringing the flowers all together before it turned into a mad contest to see who could lace the flowers faster than the other, laughing when they did.

"Here," Anna grinned, sitting on her heels to lean into him to crown him. "Sir Kristoff Bjorgman, I now pronounce thee as The Valiant Pungent Reindeer King."

Kristoff let himself grin at this, feeling relief and something warm buzz inside of him at her statement. Somehow, he knew she still remembered his costume from twelve Halloweens ago, a reindeer jumpsuit that made him look like the silly dork that he was until now. He chuckled, shaking his head.

"Okay then, Smarty-pants," he said as he was titled with a crown of daisies and greens on his head before leaning over her too, his shadow towering over her small frame. "Then I officially crown you, Ms. Anna Arendelle, as Queen of all things feisty and the epitome of all things sweet, fluffy and good."

Only then did it hit him, that he was king and she was queen, and it seemed to register to her too, obvious with the blush spreading over her cheeks when he had crowned his more scattered flower crown on top of her head before sitting cross legged on his own, blushing back wishing the dark would hide his chagrin.

After an exchange of royal statements, she scooted closer to him, shoulders bumping, knees touching before putting their titles to rest, bewitched by the late hour. She had wrapped herself in her wool sweater, knees pulled to her chest making her look smaller than she already is, and looking up to the sky, where darkness was no more than the dark blue earlier but complete and total blackness above them. He turns to look up too.

Out here, in the night, away from the high up buildings and artificial glow of the city, the stars began to pop and reveal themselves in this rare moment, usually hidden by the city's lights and drowned by the serene music played by bystanders. They were scattered above them, glow after glow, light after light, constellation to constellation, giving the moment a magical feel to it. Both couldn't help but smile.

"Its beautiful," Anna smiled, breathless with wonder. Her eyes, a sea of blue, reflected the dark and the stars in them, like a mirror only Kristoff could see himself. The blue balanced the fire in her hair, and he found himself grinning like a dork.

"Yeah," he nodded, refusing to break his gaze from the sky. Worry that someone or wandering police would find them was far off from his collection of thoughts now. "This is rare, never thought I'd see something like this in Paris. I thought it was all buildings and cathedrals… never something so natural and true. I'm glad we went out here."

"Told you," she stuck her tongue out at him. He put his hands up in surrender, laughing. "I was right!"

"Yeah, you were right. Got me there, feisty-pants."

When the hours have stretched and turned into late talks about themselves, about Elsa and Sven, about music and hockey, a small argument about which was better black coffee or chocolate mixed coffee, and about home, Kristoff found Anna's head slowly tipping to the side, languid and hanging just centimeters away from his broad and slowly growing stiff shoulder.

Finally, she had given into the calm surrender, head and weight against him, warm and real. He hesitated for a moment, realizing he wasn't really that sleepy, but relaxed when she spoke in her near sleep.

"I'm glad we came…" her voice trailed, chest heaving in and out in a relaxing pace, and he knows by heart that she has fallen asleep against him without really the need for their packed sleeping bags. Knowing another wish had been crossed out on her bucket list, he smiles fondly but mostly because of her.

With Paris asleep, except for the distant music of crickets and bongo drums somewhere far off, he finds himself wondering what Anna wished for at the heart of Paris earlier. But it didn't matter, not now, not when his wish was coming true.

I just want Anna to be happy, he relieved himself of his wish, even if it meant the world against them or him losing her, it was only a matter of care for one person to wish them the best, and he realizes he never really did care much about himself, but it was all about her.

And with each pace of breath, each fidget of her fingers or twitch of her knee, every flutter of her eyes, he knows she's happy. And so is he.

"Yeah, me too," he said, but she'd already drifted into a peaceful sleep. Mostly said to him self and to the stars who were in witness of his moment of softness. Again, his heart beats hard against his chest, moon illuminating the dorky smile on his face.

They were not in Notre Dame, or at the heart of Paris, but he felt that he was at the center of the universe, with the sea of stars watching overhead, galaxies whispering nothings about them, a bed of flowers beneath them and being with her here, simply, was enough.

review? more fluff next chapter, til then!